Haunted
by Alia G. L
Summary: Oneshot. A little songfic I wrote about the Phantom. Details his longing for Christine. Will she ever come back to him? Read and find out! EC


Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own the song "The Edge of Water" by Jars of Clay.

A/N: I was listening to my "Eleventh Hour" c.d. and heard this song. It struck me that it is the perfect Phantom song. So, I wrote a fic. Yeah, I know I should be working on my other fics, but I couldn't resist. Enjoy! It's a little EC at the end.

Haunted

"_Have you ever been haunted, the way I've been by you?"_

Erik stood there, candlestick clutched tightly in his hands. Christine's face swam in front of his eyes. She was always there. Even before he took her to his lair and fell completely in love with her, she had been inside his mind. The angelic voice was his inspiration for everything. And now it was gone. He lifted the candlestick and bashed it into the mirror. The resounding crack was music to his ears. He did it again and left the mirror shattered, unable to reflect a perfect image. It was much like him now, imperfect. Each time he hit a mirror, Erik was trying to rid himself of Christine's face. She floated in front of him, an angel in a glow of white. A ghost. The candlestick struck another mirror and glass shattered. The secret passage was revealed.

"_And have you ever felt the measure of the days that I've spent waiting, pinning for you?"_

He dropped the candlestick and entered the passage. With one glance behind, he tried to see Christine and Raoul. The boat carrying them had long been out of sight, though. Pain washed over his heart as he closed the curtain over the passage. He did not want anyone to find him. How could Christine have known that when she kissed him, it would melt his stone cold heart? Erik believed himself to be without feelings: she had proven him wrong. He had waited, though, so long for her love. Ever since hearing her sing that night years ago, he had been pinning for her. For her love. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. And he loved her. Had she ever once been burdened with the thought of waiting for her Angel to come? Had she ever panicked when he was late? Had she even cared? The darkness of the passage closed in around him. He had waited so long. Only to be disappointed in the end; she had loved Raoul.

"_I can't see the sun for the daylight. I can't feel your breath for the wind."_

A breath of air rushed through the passage. It gently caressed his skin. How long had it been since he'd gone outside to just feel the wind on his facing, cleansing him? Only once in the past three months: the fateful night he had heard Christine pledge her love to Raoul. He'd gone up on the roof to breathe in the night air after the murder. All he had wanted was a minute of peace. But, that never came. Could God be any crueler? Yes, he thought, He could. Erik sighed as the sight of iron doors to the outside world came into view. He had no thought as to where to go. All he knew was that nothing would be the same. Christine had been the only person to make his song take flight. Every composition had been for her. Now, there would be no more of it.

"_I don't want to step from these shadows, till you're coming back again."_

The iron doors closed with a resolute clang. There would be no more Phantom of the Opera. Erik shivered in the winter cold. He had not thought to bring a cloak outside with him. All he thought about was Christine and escaping the angry mob bent on vengeance. He stood there in the shadows. He could not force himself to move. A carriage rolled past, the occupants hidden by a curtain. Erik wondered if Christine was in there. If she had been, would she have stopped to say good-bye to her Angel? Erik shivered again, but not from the cold. It was from the shadow over his heart.

"_I've dammed the emotions to keep my lanterns lit."_

Get a hold of yourself, Erik. He thought. His emotions were only going to play havoc with his mind. He needed to think about his next move. Money was waiting for him in a savings account. Come morning, he must go and get it. He'd have to find some sort of mask between now and then. He did not want to frighten people. His next step afterwards would be to find suitable employment. These emotions Christine had aroused would only get in the way. The only way to survive would be to dam them up inside.

"_I'm shaken by this longing coursing through my veins. In my mind, I can't make sense of it."_

He stood there in the shadows for over an hour. It was no good. He shook with passion for her. His emotions would always be there to curse him for letting her go. You should have forced her to marry you. The evil voice rang inside him. You should have killed that fool of a viscount! No, Erik shook his head. It would have been wrong. For once in my life, I do not want to be a monster on the inside and out. Erik stormed off into the night. Why were his emotions doing this to him? She was long gone with Raoul. She was never coming back. It made no sense that his love for her was still there. And then he knew he would be cursed with love for her forever.

"_I can't see the sun for the daylight. I can't feel your breath for the wind."_

Ten years had gone by since Erik had left the opera house. He stood leaning against the window in his flat by the river, reminiscing about it all. He was alone in the world with not one soul to care for him. For two years, he had tried to drown out Christine's ghost with drink, women, and power. Nothing had worked. He had given up on the first two things soon after trying them. Drink only made him remember. Women made him remember more. Power provided some refuge, but not enough. He would never be rid of Christine.

"_I get so used to these shadows. Are you coming back again?"_

The dawn of a new day was coming. He watched the sun rise over the river. He wondered where Christine was and what she was doing. Did she even remember him? Would she tell her children and later grandchildren about the mysterious Phantom of the Opera? He allowed himself a tiny smile. His legend might be remembered through her heirs. What if she regretted her decision? The thought made him wince. But, Erik could not help wondering if she would ever come back. His life was now full of her shadow. He wanted her to come back to him. For he still loved her.

"_Do we give up the search and turn out the lights?"_

A light pink was splashed across the never- ending sky. The last blues of the night were disappearing with the coming of the pastels. Was his pinning for Christine worth it? Should he just once and for all end it? A knife lay on his bedside table. The blade was died a pink from the coming sun shining through the window. It had already soaked up the blood of a few other men, why should it not soak up his own?

"_And give up this Holy Ghost that rattles through the night?"_

He watched the knife, arguing with himself. In all honesty, he was afraid of death. Afraid of where it would take him. No more. Erik decided. His life was wretched. People feared the mask and because of it, tormented him. He was still an object of scorn. He even had to hire another man to be the face of his company! It was all so insane. No one would care about a scarred man found dead in his house. He deserved to die. The knife was suddenly in his hand. Come, my friend. Erik whispered. Finish what you have started.

"_I can't see the sun for the daylight. I can't feel your breath for the wind."_

A shudder ran through him. It was time. It was time. But, he could not bring the knife to his heart. Some unseen hand stopped him. A voice in the wind cried out to him. Look out your window. It seemed to say. Look out and see the dawn. A confused look spread across his face. Erik had just spent the last five minutes watching the dawn. Why should he care to look at it now? He pressed the knife into his heart.

"_I get so used to these shadows. Will you chase away these shadows when you come back again?"_

And stopped when he looked outside. The knife dropped to the floor and the blade snapped off. The dawn had come. Erik saw a woman highlighted by the new sun. A cloak of black encircled her, but it could not hide her face. It was the face Erik dreamed about every night. It was the one that haunted him in his waking hours. There, standing below his window, was the face that inspired all he would ever do. Without a second thought, he raced out of the room and down the stairs. Had she truly come back to him? Had she? Erik burst out the door. Her look of delight made his heart do somersaults. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. She returned the kiss. The last of the shadows over him flew off like birds scared by an almighty presence. The knife lay alone on the floor, broken, and no longer needed.


End file.
